


we've come so far (always, i love you)

by moon__goddess



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (so is yixing but that's besides the point), Chinaline friendship, M/M, Pining, baekchen best friends, jealous!xing is petty!xing, jongdae is really fucking oblivious okay, minseok is jongdae's brother, peep the side ships, producer/singer au, seriously everyone gets name dropped, there are a lot of cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon__goddess/pseuds/moon__goddess
Summary: Zhang Yixing has been writing and producing music for Kim Jongdae, stage name Chen, for the past four years, ever since his debut - and they've become close friends because of it.  The only snag in their situation is this: Yixing may or may not have a small, insignificant crush on the singer.  But he has absolutely no plans to ever let Jongdae find out.Written forXingdae Fic Fest Round 1 Prompt 19037





	we've come so far (always, i love you)

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt about pining and music production you say...... thats my SHIT  
hope you enjoy~

Renjun’s voice cracks in the middle of recording and Yixing hits pause. “Sorry, Xing-ge,” Renjun says, looking chagrined.

“Don’t worry about it, happens to the best of us.” Yixing waves his apologies off. “Can you start at the beginning of the line?”

He nods and they reset, Chenle and Xiaojun shooting Renjun multiple thumbs-ups and encouraging looks through the studio window.

Thankfully, they make it through the rest of the recording session with no major hiccups, and the three singers bow gratefully when their manager comes to collect them. “Hey, Zhoumi,” Yixing says, smiling at him. “Are Sicheng and Yukhei coming in tomorrow to record?”

Zhoumi shakes his head. “They’re still in Qingdao for their variety show. They’ll be back at the end of the week, though, if you have time then.”

“I’ll check my calendar and email you some time slots,” Yixing replies.

“Perfect.” Zhoumi smiles at him and then turns to his three artists, who are whispering together on Yixing’s couch. “Let’s go, you three, Kasper’s waiting.”

“But I’m tired,” Chenle whines. “And he’s gonna make us run the whole concert today.”

Yixing muffles his snort with a cough.

Renjun sighs, pushing himself up. “Come on, Lele. The sooner we get there the sooner we’ll be done.”

Xiaojun gets up as well and holds out his hands to Chenle. “Besides,” he says, “don’t you want to see Ten make a fool out of himself again?”

That gets Chenle to bounce off the couch and over to the door, and Yixing can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his face. “Bye, guys,” he calls, and they all wave and shout their goodbyes as Zhoumi herds them out.

The door closes behind them and his studio is finally, blessedly, silent. He slides his noise-canceling headphones on and gets to work.

A few hours later, he’s got the preliminary vocals laid over the instrumental track, with room to spare for additional harmonies. He smiles, reasonably satisfied with what he has so far, and closes the file, skimming through his drive for another piece that he needs to finish. He pulls up the track and lets the melody float through his headphones, humming along as it plays. There are a couple of spots where it feels sparse, like he needs something additional to come in, so he syncs his MIDI pad and starts fiddling with the synths. A couple of them sound okay, so he adds them to the top line and then replays it, trying to figure out where any harmonies would come in.

He’s so focused on his computer screen that he almost jumps out of his skin when someone pokes his shoulder.

“Jesus,” he groans, clutching his chest and turning to see who’d come in.

He feels his heart rate spike again.

“That was hilarious,” Jongdae says through his laughter, and Yixing huffs, leaning back in his chair, a tiny smile sliding onto his face. 

“I told you not to scare me like that,” he whines.

Jongdae keeps laughing. “Ge, I said your name like five times, _ and _ I knocked before I came in.”

Yixing scrubs his face with his hands. “Sorry, Dae.”

“What were you so focused on, anyway?” Jongdae asks, leaning forward to look at the screen.

“Oh, just an old track I was playing with.” Yixing hits save (he’s learned his lesson about saving his work) and then turns back to his friend. “Not that I don’t like seeing you, Dae, but why are you here? We’re not recording until next week.”

Jongdae holds up a takeout bag in response. “Heard you were still in the building.”

He starts to protest but his stomach growls halfway through his sentence, making it obsolete.

“Knew it,” Jongdae crows. “You always forget to eat when you’re working.”

“No I don’t,” Yixing says, but Jongdae just raises his eyebrows at him, passing him a set of chopsticks.

“I’ve known you for four years, ge,” he says as he opens a container of chicken. “Yes, you do.”

Yixing says nothing, choosing instead to shove a piece of chicken into his mouth, which makes Jongdae grin.

Jongdae only leaves when he gets a call from his manager reminding him that he has an early morning the next day, managing to extract a promise from Yixing that he’ll only stay in the studio another hour and that he’ll text him when he’s on his way home.

Yixing slumps in his chair as Jongdae closes the door behind him. He’d put up a good act of defiance, but he knows he can’t say no to Jongdae.

He was never able to.

In the silence of his studio, which now feels oppressive instead of comforting like it had been earlier, he remembers the first time they met four years ago, when Yixing had just signed a deal with ABP to be an in-house producer (which was practically unheard of, especially for a rookie producer such as himself), when Jongdae was still a trainee, preparing for debut as a solo artist.

_ A light knock comes on his studio door. “It’s open,” he calls without looking up from his keyboard. _

_ “Yixing,” comes his senior producer’s voice, making him startle and glance up. “A few of your songs got tapped for recording.” Yixing shoots out of his chair, a million questions ready to pour out, but Youngjin steps aside and reveals a young man about the same age as him, with sharp cheekbones and curlicue lips and thick black hair. _

_ “Hi,” the guy says quietly, and Yixing’s words freeze in his throat. _

_ “Hi,” he says back, nervously bowing. _

_ Youngjin smiles. “Chen-ssi is preparing for his debut, and he and his A&R team have selected your songs as potential tracks for his first mini album.” _

_ Yixing is speechless for a second. “T-thank you,” he stutters, bowing again. “I won’t let you down.” _

_ Chen smiles, and Yixing is speechless for a different reason. “Out of all the demos they played for me,” he says, his voice light, “yours were my favorites.” _

_ Yixing feels his face warm with pride. “Thank you.” _

_ “We’ve scheduled a recording session for tomorrow at 10,” Youngjin says, “to work around Chen’s schedule. Is that okay?” _

_ “Y-yes, of course, it’s totally fine,” Yixing says, almost tripping over his words he’s so excited. _

_ “I’ll be supervising,” Youngjin continues, “but since it’s your song, you’ll be doing most of the work.” _

_ Yixing nods, his mind already whirring with ideas about harmony and layering synths. _

_ “Tomorrow at 10,” Youngjin repeats, and Yixing smiles. _

_ “Got it.” He turns to Chen. “Thank you again,” he says, inclining his head. _

_ “They were the obvious choice,” Chen replies, giving him another smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” _

_ He bows and follows Youngjin out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. _

_ Yixing joyfully punches the air. _

They’d recorded five songs in a week, and Yixing had worked overtime for the next month to perfect them, pulling quite a number of all-nighters and even sleeping in his studio on occasion (which was when his roommate would text him “r u alive” and he’d send back a thumbs-up emoji whenever he saw the notification). He’d finally sent them off, not feeling a hundred percent happy with them but satisfied enough to submit them, and then Chen had texted him that he loved the way the songs had come out, and would he agree to get dinner with him as a thank-you, and then he’d asked Yixing at said dinner to produce his next album as well, and Yixing couldn’t say no, not when slightly drunk off both the alcohol and Chen’s compliments and faced with Chen’s pleading eyes.

Chen’s first album had done moderately well, title track charting in the top 20 for two weeks, but in the first pre-production meeting for the second mini he told Yixing that he really wanted to get a win. So Yixing had spent hours poring over tracks, and Chen - real name Kim Jongdae - had joined him, providing help with lyrics and adding his own color and ideas to the songs they selected. Yixing had been thankful for the help, and had found that he and Jongdae worked extremely well together, and he’d been extremely proud of what they presented for the second mini album.

That mini album, ‘Exodus’, propelled Jongdae - and him - into the spotlight. It was a huge success, every single track charting, the title remaining in the top 10 for six weeks and the top 20 for five months, something practically unheard of. Now, Jongdae’s one of Korea’s top male soloists, and Yixing their most-sought-after producer. He’s done every single one of Jongdae’s albums since then, and albums for other ABP artists, and songs for practically every top idol group and soloist in the nation, and even some international collaborations. They’re both extremely busy, but they always make time for each other - their friendship had solidified during that first year into something unbreakable.

Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that Yixing’s heart beats a little faster when he’s close to Jongdae, that he finds himself blushing whenever Jongdae looks at him, that he thinks about Jongdae all the time, that he wonders what it would be like to kiss him, to hold him and know that he’s _ his_. And he knows that Jongdae can never know, because it would not only ruin their friendship beyond repair, it could also ruin both their careers.

He knows this. 

And yet his traitorous heart persists.

***

“Hang on, Baek,” Yixing says, stopping the recording. “Can you do the second line again, the one that starts with ‘choeum neukkineun’? It sounded a little more nasal than I think we need.”

Inside the booth, Baekhyun grins at him. “Whatever you want, Xingie, you’re the master here.”

Yixing rolls his eyes, smiling fondly. “Shut up and do the line again, ‘kay?”

Jongdae snorts from his spot on the couch where he’s reading over lyrics.

“Yah, Kim Jongdae, don’t you laugh at me,” Baekhyun shouts. Jongdae raises a hand and flips him off without looking up from his notebook.

“Xingiiiiiiie,” Baekhyun whines, “Jongdae’s being mean to me.”

Yixing can’t help his smile. “Dae, stop antagonizing Baek, we have a deadline to meet,” he says, giggling a little bit. “Baek, stop letting Dae antagonize you.”

“Hmph, fine,” Baekhyun says, sliding his headphones back on. “Let’s go.”

Yixing tunes back into the track, hitting play and raising the volume on Baekhyun’s mic. He hits the line as requested, with less of a nasally tone, and Yixing shoots him a thumbs up when he stops the recording once again.

“Much better,” he comments, and Baekhyun grins. “Can we do the bridge and then the last chorus or do you need a water break?”

Baekhyun holds up a hand while he searches for something, and then he brandishes his water bottle at the studio window.

Yixing chuckles. “Alright, got it.”

Baekhyun takes a sip and then clears his throat. “Ready when you are, boss.”

He gives Baekhyun the signal and starts the track back up, nodding along as Baekhyun croons the chorus of his new single. “That sounded great, Baek,” he says when he reaches the end. “I think I wanna do the second verse again and then you should be-”

A heavy knock on his door interrupts him, and he turns in his chair, calling, “Come in.”

Han sticks his head inside the studio. “Ah, you’re still working,” he says, grinning.

Yixing sighs at the sight of one of his best friends. “What are you doing, you fool.”

_ “Checking on you,_” Han says, switching to Mandarin. _ “I’m surprised Byun is still here, knowing you.” _

_ “What do you mean?” _ Yixing glances at him confusedly.

_ “You didn’t see the articles from this morning?” _ Yixing shakes his head and Han sighs. _ “Paps got another image of the two of them leaving the same house. _ ” He nods at Jongdae and Baekhyun. _ “We all know it means nothing, but…” _ Han shrugs. _ “It doesn’t look like nothing.” _

Yixing’s hands clench on the arms of his chair. _ “Are they taking care of it?” _

_ “Yeah, Kris said Taozi should have all traces gone by end of day.” _

“Oh, how is Taozi?” Baekhyun pipes up, having left the sound booth. “I haven’t seen him in ages.” He mock-glares at Yixing. “And don’t pretend like you weren’t talking about him, I clearly heard his name.”

Han giggles. “He’s good, when he’s not cleaning up your messes.”

Baekhyun pouts. “Oh my god, that was one time,” he complains, leaning against Jongdae on the couch. “Take a girl out to dinner once and suddenly your ‘secret marriage’ is all over the Internet.”

Jongdae shoves him off, his smile like the sun as he laughs. Yixing can’t stop staring at him.

Han clears his throat, making him jump and glance back guiltily. _ “You’re an idiot," _he says, giving Yixing a Look.

_ “Shut up.” _

“Anyways,” Han continues, clapping his hands, “I was stopping by to let you all know that Hyoyeon noona ordered too much food so there are leftovers in the dance studio.”

“Free food?” Jongdae tosses his notebook down. “I’m there.”

“We have a meeting later!” Yixing yells after him. “Don’t be late!”

Jongdae just waves and gives him a thumbs-up as he dashes out the door.

Han grins as he turns to follow him out. “See you later,” he says, ignoring the daggers Yixing is throwing into his back with his eyes, and closes the studio door behind him.

Baekhyun sighs. “Xingie, I want food too,” he says, giving Yixing his patented puppy eyes.

Yixing points at the sound booth. “Do the second verse again and then you’re free to go.”

Once Baekhyun leaves, having made Yixing laugh more times in an hour than in probably the last two weeks, Yixing goes back to editing, reworking the bass line in order to make Baekhyun’s voice stand out more.

“Hey.” A voice startles him out of his work-induced trance. “I brought you food.”

He smiles at Jongdae, saving his work before he takes the plate. “Why does it feel like this always happens?”

“Because it does,” Jongdae responds, rolling his eyes as he sits back down on the couch. “You forget to eat when you’re working, and as your friend, it’s my job to make sure you don’t die of starvation.”

“I won’t die,” Yixing grumbles, reaching for a dumpling. “But thank you.”

“Whatever you say, Xing.” Jongdae digs his water bottle out of his bag and takes a sip. “Besides, don’t we have a meeting in -” he checks his watch “- five minutes?”

“Shit.” Yixing shoves another dumpling in his mouth and swings around in his chair to grab his notebook and a water. “‘M ready,” he says through his mouthful of food.

Jongdae smirks at him as he stands up. “Don’t choke,” he says, ushering Yixing out of the studio. Yixing flips him off in response, swallowing his dumpling before he locks the studio door behind them.

***

Chanyeol, surprisingly, looks up from his laptop when Yixing lets the door to their apartment slam closed behind him.

“You look like shit,” he says, and Yixing just shrugs, dropping his bag and shoving his feet into his slippers.

“Feel like shit,” he mumbles, padding into the kitchen to get a can of beer.

“Why?” Chanyeol shoots upright, his big eyes even wider with concern. “Did something happen? Are you sick? Do you need me to swing by my mom’s and bring you soup?”

Yixing huffs a tired laugh and cracks his can open. “Yeol, it’s fine,” he says, taking a swig. “I’m just tired.”

Chanyeol glances at him disbelievingly. “You’re always tired, you never look this bad.”

Yixing shrugs again before he plops himself onto the couch, exhaling heavily and closing his eyes as he lets his body unwind.

Chanyeol shuts his laptop with a snap and leans forward, seemingly undeterred. “Something’s bothering you,” he says.

Yixing’s eyes fly open. He’d forgotten how perceptive Chanyeol is.

“Aha, I’m right,” he crows, and Yixing sighs in defeat. “What is it? Oh, wait, didn’t you have that preliminary meeting for Chen’s second full album today? How’d that go?”

Yixing involuntarily winces at the sound of Jongdae’s stage name, and then shuts his eyes again as Chanyeol blows out a breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says, staring at the ceiling. 

Chanyeol shifts closer to him on the couch. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Yixing mumbles. “Maybe.”

“Did they trash your new stuff?” Chanyeol asks. “Because if they did, they’re fucking idiots, your new stuff is honestly some of the best music I’ve ever heard, it’s so good, and they don’t deserve you if they’re gonna throw it out!” 

That makes Yixing smile briefly. “Thanks, Yeol,” he says. “It’s not that, though. They liked the couple new songs I showed them.”

“Then what is it?” Chanyeol sounds confused, and Yixing opens his eyes to glance at him. He looks concerned, more like a wounded puppy than Yixing’s ever seen, and maybe his heart twinges a little bit at how forlornly his roommate is staring at him.

“Fine,” he sighs, ready to explain the situation, but Chanyeol interrupts him.

“Wait!” His roommate claps his hands. “Is… did the dating rumor get confirmed?”

Yixing blinks slowly at him. “What dating rumor?”

“Chen and Baekhyun,” he says, looking nervous again. “You… don’t you have a thing for him? Baekhyun, I mean? God, if that were me, that would make working with him so awkward...”

Yixing’s heart gives a pang. “No,” he says, sinking back into the couch cushions. “Not Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol’s gasp is comically loud. “WHAT?”

“Don’t,” Yixing says tiredly, halfheartedly waving a hand in Chanyeol’s direction. 

“But -” Chanyeol freezes, eyes widening yet again. “Oh my god, so many things just made sense.” He bounces over to Yixing’s side. “You and Chen would be so CUTE!”

“Chanyeol…” Yixing looks askance at him. “He doesn’t like me like that, he never has. We’re just friends.”

“If you say so.” Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows at him suggestively.

“Stop that,” Yixing groans, throwing out a hand to whack him. “Don’t you have a song to be working on?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the p and leaning back. “Sent the track to Gaeko-hyung earlier, he’s gonna record the demo and send it back when he’s done.” He grins. “So I can interrogate you about Chen all I want.”

“No, no, no, nope, we’re not doing that.”

Chanyeol just keeps grinning like the goddamn devil that he is, and Yixing sighs, yet again, in defeat.

“We’re gonna need some more beer.”

He wakes up in his bed the next morning with a hangover and Chanyeol plastered to his side, snoring softly. “Ugh, Yeol,” he groans, shoving Chanyeol’s arm off of his chest so he can get up. “You’re fucking heavy.”

“Mmmph.”

Yixing shakes his head. “Useless,” he mumbles, a tiny smile crossing his face as his roommate tries to burrow farther into his pillow.

He gets dressed, ignoring the Chanyeol-shaped lump behind him, and throws a couple granola bars into his bag when he realizes he can’t eat breakfast if he wants to make it to his meeting with Youngjin and Kenzie on time. 

“Text me later,” he yells, shoving his feet into some sneakers, and when Chanyeol blinks and half raises a hand in acknowledgement Yixing takes that as his cue to leave.

***

“Oh, thank god you’re in here,” Zitao says, quickly shutting the door to the studio behind him. “I need to lay low for a bit.” 

Yixing glances up from his phone, where he’s been playing Candy Crush while he waits for a couple of tracks to render. “Why?”

“Qian is on the _ warpath_,” he whines, flopping on the couch. “It’s all the new dating rumors, and Kris not doing enough to get rid of them, and I do _ not _ want to be in the middle of them and Han ge if they’re gonna start fighting again.”

“Do I even want to know the details?” Yixing asks, smiling slightly. 

Zitao sits up straight. “Wait, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Yixing gives him a puzzled look. “You know I blocked Dispatch and the rest of them after the Sunyoung incident.”

“Oh, right, I almost forgot about that.” Zitao smirks briefly at him before continuing. “But I am actually surprised you don’t know, considering it’s Jongdae again.”

Yixing sighs. “Again?” He leans back in his chair. “It’s like the paps have nothing better to do than spout bullshit.”

Zitao presses his lips together. “It’s not just the paps, ge. It’s the fans too.”

“Oh.” Yixing feels his heart drop into his stomach. Whenever fans start dating rumors, like actual dating rumors instead of just ship wars or whatever, they’re usually right. He had found that out the hard way when he’d tried to vouch for Taekwoon, one of the members of a group from another company that he’d written for and with whom he’d struck up a friendship, and then Taekwoon’s company had confirmed the relationship between him and Park Sunyoung, a solo artist under Yixing’s company, the next day. Their fans had spotted them out on a few dates when they had been costarring in a musical.

The Sunyoung incident sticks out in Yixing’s mind because Sunyoung had been rumored to be dating Jongdae right before all of it went down, since they’d collabed on a surprise track for Platform, the company’s collaboration project. He’d actually been vindictively happy to find out she wasn’t with Jongdae, and then he’d felt so remorseful that he’d tried to help. And then his plan had backfired, and Taekwoon’s company had to release a statement, and he blocked every single celebrity news outlet on all forms of social media he could think of to ensure something like that never happened again.

“So, here’s what’s been going around,” Zitao says, pulling something up on his phone and leaning forward to show Yixing. “Jongdae’s been spotted with actor Do Kyungsoo, going out to dinner twice and meeting for coffee once. Their ship name’s been trending for the last twelve hours.”

Yixing exhales heavily. “Great.”

“Come on, ge,” Zitao says, glaring at him. “When are you going to admit it, hm?”

“Admit what?” Yixing turns back to his computer, relieved to see that the rendering is now complete and he can send the two tracks off to Youngjin for review, ignoring Zitao’s aggrieved huff from behind him. 

“Seriously?” 

“I can hear your eyes rolling, Taozi,” Yixing says without turning around.

“Good, because I think you’re being amazingly thickheaded,” Zitao retorts. “We all know why you wouldn’t speak to Baekhyun for six months after all the press about him and Jongdae broke the first time, you’re not fooling anyone except the man in question.”

Yixing shrugs. “Thank you for your concern,” he says, voice coated with sarcasm. “Now can you let me work, since you so rudely interrupted?”

Zitao huffs again. “Whatever, ge,” he replies, leaning back on the couch. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

***

“Get up, we’re getting dinner,” Jongdae announces as he throws the door of Yixing’s studio open. “You’ve been in here for too long.”

Yixing blinks blearily at him, eyes only slightly burning from staring at his computer screen for who knows how many hours. “What are you doing here, Dae?”

“To save you from yourself,” Jongdae replies, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair before he props himself up on the door frame. “You. Me. Food. Now.”

“I have to finish this,” Yixing protests. “Do you want your album to flop?”

“It could never, not with you producing,” Jongdae says, and heat rushes to Yixing’s cheeks. “Now let’s go, I heard from Kenzie noona that you’ve been here all day.”

“But - the song,” Yixing says feebly. “It’s almost done, I just need-”

“You need dinner, is what you need,” Jongdae interrupts, crossing his arms. Yixing’s gaze darts to the way his shirtsleeves pull over his biceps for a brief second before he sighs and closes his eyes.

“Ten minutes,” he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Then I’ll come.”

“Make it five,” Jongdae counters, raising an eyebrow.

Yixing smiles. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Kim,” he says, “but I accept.”

Seven and a half minutes later, he’s happy with the instrumental demo, so he saves the file and shuts his computer off, standing up from his chair and wincing when his back pops.

“See?” Jongdae says, looking up from his phone. “Sitting in that chair for so long with no breaks is bad for you.”

“Says you,” Yixing mumbles, stretching, He grabs his jacket from where he’d thrown it this morning and walks over to Jongdae. “Let’s go, then.”

Jongdae smiles at him, the corners of his lips curling up, and Yixing wants nothing more than to just kiss him right then and there.

But he can’t, he can’t do that, for too many extremely valid reasons, so he quickly looks down, shifting his weight while he shoves his arms into his jacket. “After you,” he says, letting Jongdae lead him out of his studio.

They arrive at one of their favorite restaurants, the staff recognizing them immediately and ushering them to their usual spot, a booth in the back that’s hidden by several screens and the soda station. Jongdae orders for both of them, their normal order of pork belly and Korean beef, and once their server leaves he meets Yixing’s eyes. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

Yixing blows out a breath. “Dae, it’s nothing,” he says, swallowing the urge to blurt everything out. “I’m just busy, and tired, and-” He sees an opportunity to get out of this line of questioning, so he takes it, continuing, “-Chanyeol never cleans the apartment when I ask him to.”

“Ah,” Jongdae replies, smiling slightly. “Roommate trouble.”

“I mean, not really,” Yixing protests. “He’s just a little messy. But it’s enough that it’s starting to bother me.”

Jongdae snorts, his hand coming up to cover his giant grin. “And if it bothers you, the master of ‘organized chaos’, then it must be bad.”

“Like you’re any better,” Yixing retorts, grinning as well. “The last time I was at your apartment, there were stacks of paper and old CDs _ everywhere_.”

Jongdae waves a hand, still giggling, his smile infectious. “Yeah, but that was almost a year ago,” he says. “Minseok’s been by since, and you know how he is about cleaning.”

“Oh, how is he?” Yixing asks. “I haven’t seen him since before he started his service.”

“He’s good.” Jongdae smirks. “Misses the cats, and a certain someone in the media department, but he still won’t admit who.”

“Does he not realize that he and Han are the most obvious people in the company?” Yixing starts giggling again, remembering the time he’d caught the two of them coming from a ‘meeting’, both extremely rumpled and standing slightly too close together.

“Oh my god, shush,” Jongdae whines, his laughter beginning anew. “My stomach hurts, shut up.”

They glance at each other and then both of them double over, giggling up a storm - and unable to stop. 

Yixing’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Just like every other time he’s made Jongdae laugh, he feels like he’s in the presence of the sun, and he realizes, yet again, as they laugh so hard they can’t speak, that he’d give anything to keep Jongdae smiling like that.

They get their food and some soju, and by the time they’re finishing the meat they’re each a bottle and a half in, and Jongdae is swaying slightly to the beat of the music playing in the restaurant, his eyes closed, eyelashes resting against his cheekbones. Yixing’s heart clenches; he looks so beautiful, so ethereal, even in the dim yellow lighting, like a sculpture into which a benevolent god breathed life. 

“Hey,” he says, holding out a piece of meat. Jongdae’s eyes flutter open and he leans forward, eating the meat off Yixing’s chopsticks in one bite. 

“Thanks, Xingie,” he mumbles.

“So,” Yixing continues, steadfastly ignoring the way his heart is beating double time. “I heard I need to offer you congratulations.”

Jongdae almost chokes on his meat. “Wait, what?” His eyes are comically wide. “How - it’s not public yet, how did you…” He trails off, looking slightly nervous, and Yixing swears he _ feels _ his heart crack in half. “Did Baekhyun tell you?” he demands. “That bastard, I knew I couldn’t trust him with this.”

“No, no,” Yixing hurries to say, “it wasn’t Baek. Zitao said-”

“How did _ he _ find out?” Jongdae gasps, looking more than slightly panicked. “Oh god, what if…” He drops his head into his hands for a second before he pulls out his phone. “I swear to God, if Junmyeon let something slip to Kris, I’m never forgiving him.”

“Dae,” Yixing starts, feeling a little anxious at the look on Jongdae’s face as he types, “what-”

“Shit, Kyungsoo’s gonna _ kill _ me,” Jongdae moans, dropping his phone on the table. “I promised him nothing would get out until all the details were finalized, he was literally supposed to have a meeting with A&R tomorrow, they’re gonna drop my track from the OST, ugh this is so bad-”

“Jongdae.” Yixing puts his hand on his arm, effectively stopping his rambling. “What are you talking about.”

“Uh, my deal with Kyungsoo?” Jongdae glances at him, his ears slightly pink. “You know, I sing an OST for his new drama and help him get in touch with some producers so he can start singing again, he gets me more national exposure and hopefully more OST deals?”

Jongdae’s words take a minute to permeate through Yixing’s brain, his entire body having stopped working. “Oh,” he says eloquently.

“Why, what else would it have been?” Jongdae leans forward slightly. “Xing?”

Yixing blinks, his mind still reeling, and then he realizes his hand is still resting on Jongdae’s arm. “Um.” He quickly shoves his hands through his hair, resting them in his lap as to resist the urge to keep touching Jongdae. “Nothing, it’s nothing, it was just something Zitao showed me, uh -”

“Wait.” Jongdae raises his eyebrows. “Did you think we were dating?”

The incredulous tone of his voice makes Yixing wince. “Uh, no?”

“I know when you’re lying,” Jongdae says, leaning farther into Yixing’s space. “You totally thought I was dating Kyungsoo.”

“Um…” Yixing avoids his gaze, looking down at the table. “It… maybe… looked that way, plus, uh, Zitao showed me some fan rumors.”

“Goddammit, Zitao,” Jongdae grumbles, shaking his head with a teasing smile. “No, we’ve just been meeting a bunch to talk details. And he’s surprisingly a pretty cool guy.” 

Yixing covers his face with his hands, feeling ridiculous. “Still,” he mutters.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Jongdae says, lightly hitting his shoulder. “Fans are stupid sometimes, you know that.”

“I know. I just-” Yixing breaks off, swallowing the words that had threatened to spill out. “It did look kind of convincing.” He tentatively smiles.

Jongdae rolls his eyes, bumping his shoulder with his own. “Please,” he says, smiling back, “if I was dating anyone, you’d be the first to know.”

Yixing forces a laugh - and he’s had enough practice to make it sound real. “Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, waving a hand. “That’s what they all say.”

“I mean it!” Jongdae starts chuckling again. “You’re th- one of the most important people in my life, of course I’d tell you!”

Yixing lightly shoves him, still smiling. “Sure. Now less relationship talk, more drinking.”

“That’s my man,” Jongdae says, grinning as he pours two more shots, and Yixing downs his immediately, hoping the burn will drown out the sudden ache in his chest.

***

Weeks go by. Yixing keeps working: he finishes the album for Dream and sends it to Zhoumi and their A&R team, he produces Baekhyun’s next single, he composes a unit performance track for Kai and Sehun, two members of Black Pearl, he helps Taekwoon with arranging tracks for his solo debut, and he writes. Song after song after song, added to a folder buried on his hard drive, all about the curls of Jongdae’s lips and the width of his waist and the way he laughs and how his smile could light up the darkest night. There are some emotional ones in there too, about burying pain and not letting love go, about holding on in the face of adversity, about hidden emotions and coming out of your shell. 

The compositions in that folder are some of Yixing’s favorites he’s ever written. But none of them will ever see the light of day, because he wrote them all when thinking of Jongdae, and he can’t do that, can’t release something that personal and let someone who’s not him sing it.

He writes lyrics, too, lyrics that he hasn’t matched to a track yet (and might not ever), lyrics that talk about the fluttering in his chest when Jongdae smiles at him, about the comfort and ease of spending time with him, about how much he wants to hold him in his arms. Those he keeps in a notebook, a notebook that never leaves his sight.

At least until he accidentally leaves it at home one morning, lying on the kitchen table, and Chanyeol swings by the company building to drop it off, bursting into his studio while practically shrieking “Zhang Yixing I cannot believe you willingly wrote this sappy shit about K-”

He breaks off suddenly, his body frozen in place, and Yixing sighs.

“Sorry for the interruption,” he says, inclining his head to Do Kyungsoo, his manager, and Jongdae as he stands up. “This is my flatmate, Park Chanyeol. Also a producer and lyricist.” He walks over to Chanyeol and snatches the notebook out of his hands, hissing “I can’t believe you” under his breath.

Chanyeol unfreezes after maybe two seconds, bowing frantically. “So sorry, so sorry,” he breathes, ears slowly turning bright red. “Nice to meet you, I’lljustgonowbye-”

“Stay,” Yixing says, his voice firm as he glares. “Since you’re here anyway.”

Chanyeol gapes at him.

Yixing just raises his eyebrows, gesturing towards an empty spot on the couch. Chanyeol blinks a couple more times and then he trudges over to the couch, perching himself on the edge of the cushion, looking for all the world like a prim little prep school kid - well, if the kid were six foot, had long gangly limbs and ears that could literally flap in the wind, and was wearing an old crewneck sweatshirt that had “May the bridges I burn light the way” emblazoned on it. 

Jongdae smirks, the corners of his lips curling up more than usual, and Yixing catches his eye and grins.

The rest of the meeting goes well, and once they’re done Yixing watches Chanyeol start up a conversation with Kyungsoo as they leave, following Kyungsoo’s manager out of the room. He’s also acutely aware of Jongdae in the chair next to him, twirling his pencil between his fingers, light brown hair flopping over his forehead, especially because his lyrics notebook is sitting on top of his meeting notes in plain sight. 

“So,” Jongdae says, breaking the silence, still twirling his pencil, “you have a secret stash of love songs.”

Yixing wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “No one was supposed to find out,” he mumbles, reaching forward and tucking the notebook into his arms. “I have an image to keep up. Plus I can’t believe Chanyeol actually fucking read it.”

Jongdae huffs a quiet laugh, his eyes focused on the table. “I think it’s sweet,” he says. “Not that Chanyeol sort of invaded your privacy, but… the songs.” He drops his pencil on top of his own notes. “That you wrote them.”

“It’s not sweet, it’s embarrassing,” Yixing responds, feeling his cheeks heat. “They’re so _ cheesy_, I was never going to publish them.”

Jongdae looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Why not?”

“Uh… well…” Yixing glances down at his notebook. “Most of them are, uh, pretty personal, too.”

“Mmmm, got it.” Jongdae smirks at him. “No releasing the ‘personal’ songs.”

“Not like that, god,” Yixing groans, making to whack him, but Jongdae dodges his hand and snatches the notebook away. 

“Let me see, hm?” He grins and brushes the pages with his thumb without opening it.

“Come on, Dae,” Yixing whines, making grabby hands, “give it back.”

Jongdae locks eyes with him and sighs. “Fine, here.” He holds the notebook out and Yixing snatches it back, exhaling in relief. “But you have to promise me,” Jongdae continues, “you’ll submit something from it for my blind listen next month.”

“What, why?” Yixing gapes at him. “I just said I wasn’t going to publish them.”

Jongdae pouts, pushing his chair back and standing. “Becauuuuse,” he sighs, “A&R talked to my managers, they want the new album to be pretty emotional. More happy than the last one, but still.” He walks over to where Yixing is sitting, glancing down at him. “Look, anything you write is good, so just promise me you’ll submit. I can’t go without a Zhang Yixing writing credit on my album.” 

Yixing feels a flush race up his neck. “Fine,” he says, because of course he does. “Only for you.”

“Great!” Jongdae grins at him, his blinding, sunshine grin, and Yixing smiles back, internally cursing into the next century.

***

“You have to send in something,” Chanyeol says to him a week later, one evening when they’re both at home. “This could be your chance to tell him!”

“You sound like Han,” Yixing mumbles. “I’m not going to do it.”

“But you have to tell him at _ some _ point,” Chanyeol counters. “You can’t keep living like this.”

“Yes I can,” Yixing retorts. “I’m not telling him.” His heart sinks even as he says the words, but he knows it’s the only way to protect Jongdae.

“God, you’re so _ stubborn_.” Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m not aruging with you.”

They keep eating, the conversation seemingly over, and then Chanyeol says, with his mouth full of bulgogi, “You should submit _ Monodrama_, I really liked those lyrics.”

Yixing drops his chopsticks and slides his hands down his face. “I’m not sending that in, it’s too sad. Dae said the album is supposed to be happier.”

“Ohoho.” Chanyeol smirks and wiggles his eyebrows. “Dae, hm?”

“Shut up.” Yixing throws a napkin at him.

“Anyway.” Chanyeol continues like nothing happened. “Submit _ Monodrama _ if you have to send something in, it’s a great song - but it might not get picked if the album needs to be happy.” He chews another mouthful of meat before his eyes light up. “OHMYGOD, I’m a genius!” He shoots out of his chair and punches the air. “You can send in a sappy love song without him knowing you wrote it!”

“No, Chanyeol,” Yixing says tiredly. “I’m not sending one in.” 

Chanyeol ignores him. “I can submit it for you,” he says, his hands flapping excitedly. “We can get Kenzie noona to sing the demo for us, she owes us both a favor. Just clean up one of the tracks and we’ll be good!”

Yixing stares at him, deadpan. “No.”

“Come on, Xing,” Chanyeol whines, pouting at him. “You wrote all of those songs, you’re just going to let them sit unfinished forever?”

Yixing nods, taking another scoop of vegetables. “That was the idea,” he says dryly.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?” Chanyeol pouts harder, blinking his big eyes across the table at him. “I swear, Jongdae’ll never know, and then you can, like, get your feelings out in a song and maybe try and move on?”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, Chanyeol bats his eyes again, and finally he blows out a breath. “You have to swear, Yeol, that no one finds out I wrote it.”

“YES!!!” Chanyeol leaps up and punches the air again, this time in victory. 

They text Kenzie later that night, and she agrees to record a demo next week, and then Chanyeol sweeps their dishes off the table and into the sink so they have space to work. Yixing wants to go to bed, wants to fall asleep and forget that he ever agreed to this, but he sees the spark of determination in his roommate’s eyes and sighs, going instead to get his laptop.

Every night for the next week, they work, poring over bits and pieces of lyrics from Yixing’s notebook, mixing track samples, and playing with melody lines. Yixing submits _ Monodrama _ one afternoon at his studio, since Jongdae was standing right there watching him do it, and that way he’d have plausible deniability about submitting more than one, and then when he and Chanyeol are satisfied with how everything sounds on the secret track they send it to Kenzie. She swings by Yixing’s studio to record, giving them both knowing looks as she steps into the booth, and finishes in under an hour, no one finding too many issues. Yixing arranges the track, listens to the finished product, and tweaks some more, and once he’s satisfied with it he moves the file onto a nondescript red flash drive and gives it to Chanyeol for submission.

“No one knows,” he repeats, dropping the drive into Chanyeol’s palm.

“No one,” Chanyeol repeats, grinning. “Now, to go give this to Junmyeon for the blind listen.”

***

Yixing doesn’t have his headphones on for once, so he actually notices when the door to his studio opens and Jongdae walks in.

“Hey, Dae,” he says, twisting in his chair to grin at him - but the pallor of Jongdae’s face is enough to stop him in his tracks. “Jongdae?” He stands up, sending his chair rolling back towards his desk. “What-”

“You wrote this.” Jongdae holds out a familiar red flash drive. “You wrote _ Promise_.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” Yixing crosses his arms and avoids Jongdae’s gaze. “Pshhh, no I didn’t. I told you I only submitted _ Monodrama _ for the blind listen.”

“Yixing.” Jongdae’s voice is tense. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Well…” Yixing quickly glances at him, his heart beating slightly faster. “Technically, I didn’t submit it, and technically, I didn’t write it………………… alone.”

“I knew it,” Jongdae says triumphantly, with a hint of something unfamiliar in his voice as well. “I knew it was you.”

“Chanyeol helped!” Yixing throws his hands up. “It wasn’t just me. Besides,” he says, crossing his arms, “how did you know? It was submitted anonymously.”

“Even after time, I couldn’t say anything and just swallowed my words, words saying I’m sorry, I love you?” Jongdae fixes him with a look. “You’re the only person who could come up with that and also have ‘I see just what you’re worth, you’re heaven on this world' in the same song.”

Yixing flushes. “I…”

Jongdae raises his eyebrows. “Was there… a certain someone who, maybe perhaps, inspired this?”

Yixing flushes harder, dropping his gaze to the floor, because of course there is, and he’s the one asking the question. 

“Awww, hyung’s in _ loooove_,” he coos, and Yixing’s entire body turns to stone. “Can’t believe I’m gonna be singing your sappy lyrics about Baekhyun, just tell him or-”

“It’s NOT Baekhyun!” Yixing slams his hands on his desk and turns around to face Jongdae, who looks slightly shocked by his outburst. “Why does everyone think that?”

Jongdae shrugs. “But if it’s not Baekhyun…” He takes a step forward, a step closer to Yixing, a hint of a teasing smile still fluttering on his lips. “Who did you write this about?”

He can’t do it.

He can’t take it anymore. The hiding, the pretending, the pain.

So he takes a step forward too, a step closer to Jongdae, takes his face into his hands and kisses him.

It’s short, fleeting, and when Yixing pulls away and opens his eyes Jongdae is frozen in place, eyes squeezed closed.

“It’s you,” he murmurs.

Jongdae’s eyes flutter open, and there’s a strange look on his face, one that’s simultaneously broken and so, so hopeful. “Me?” he breathes.

Yixing nods, letting his thumb sweep over his cheekbone. “Always,” he says. “It’s always been you.”

Jongdae shudders, exhaling shakily. “Yixing…”

“We’ve come so far since we met,” Yixing says, his hands tightening on Jongdae. “You and me, working together. And I…” He swallows, meeting Jongdae’s gaze. “I don’t know exactly when, but… at some point, I realized that… I gave you so much music, wrote so many songs, but I gave you my heart too.”

Jongdae makes a choking sound, his eyes suddenly glistening. “You…” He takes a deep breath. “Yixing, if I have your heart, then you have mine.” He sniffles, obviously trying to keep the tears in, and Yixing can’t help but stare. “Since the day we met, maybe even earlier. I listened to your sample tracks and I was half in love with you then, and then we met, and worked together, and…” He gulps, meeting Yixing’s eyes. “Yixing, I…”

Yixing blinks at him, feeling like the bones of the universe are shifting beneath his feet. 

“Yixing, I love you,” he says, covering Yixing’s hands with his own.

Yixing’s brain is sputtering, unable to come up with anything to say, so he does the only thing he can think of and leans forward to kiss Jongdae again.

To his surprise, Jongdae loops his hands around Yixing’s neck and tugs him closer, deepening their kiss. He nips his lower lip and Jongdae lets out a tiny moan, giving him an opening to slide his tongue into his mouth. Jongdae responds eagerly, letting their tongues dance around each other while still keeping it languid. They stay intertwined like that for a while, Yixing’s not quite sure how long because his ability to think clearly has been destroyed by the way Jongdae’s mouth is ravishing his own, but eventually he lightens the pressure and they break apart gently.

“I love you too,” Yixing says softly, watching as Jongdae slowly looks up at him and smiles.

“So,” he says, running his fingers across Yixing’s wrist, “can I put that song on the album?”

Yixing bursts into giggles, the weight flying off his shoulders. He nods, still laughing, and Jongdae breaks a second later, his laugh bouncing off the walls of the studio.

Yixing thinks his heart is going to burst from the amount of joy he’s experiencing. Holding Jongdae in his arms, knowing what it feels like to kiss him, hearing his laugh full of sunshine - he’s never felt happier. And he knows that they’re going to make it work.

~

**Author's Note:**

> ^^; i have been STRESSING about this fic so i'm so so glad i finally figured it out and finished it!!!! (even though i think the ending is kind of rushed but ausfhkjsafhskjld i hope it still flows okay)  
thank you to mod k for running this fest you've been fab and i'm so sorry i turned this in so last minute ;;  
also thank you to the prompter for submitting such a great prompt (can you tell i'm a sucker for pining? because i AM)!  
and thank you guys for reading this! i hope you enjoyed it~  
(title from amusement park and love words; quoted lyrics from promise and amusement park~)  
♥
> 
> [tumblr](https://yixingminseokjongdae.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/allforexot9) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/moon_goddess)


End file.
